


The Changing Forest

by Alphabaetafish



Series: TWWM Treasures and Events [2]
Category: Those Who Went Missing (Roleplay)
Genre: Autumn, Cute, Event Prompt, Fluff, forest biome event
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphabaetafish/pseuds/Alphabaetafish
Summary: With Autumn approaching the Old One takes a stroll in the forest, and unsurprisingly stumbles upon shenanigans.
Series: TWWM Treasures and Events [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095797





	The Changing Forest

Autumn brings change, and with it a mixed bag of emotions for the Old One. If they had a true name once, they’d long since forgotten it, and had gone by many over the years. Some stuck around longer than others, similar to how some summers dragged on with their oppressive heatwaves well into the fall months; stubborn and outlived its welcome. Others they felt a deeper connection to, but soured along with their relationships with the esks than gave them. Their abnormality wasn’t as obvious as most of the other unusual cases they’d met, though admittedly their ability to change size was easy enough to hide. Sometimes the esk they met treated them different after discovering their abnormal origins, at times with open awe and others closeted revulsion. The Old One couldn’t help what they were and had made peace with their archaic oddness. Perhaps in the future they’d change their appearance to suit their more modern views of what constitutes an abnormal, though they doubt it will be as easy as a name change. The Old One wondered how long their current name would last, as they glanced around at the bright, multicoloured leaves around them. Admittedly, they felt they could do with a change, after the tumultuous year they’d had. 

Though not as bone-deep as the freeze winter brings, its undeniable that the nights are getting cooler, longer, and far less muggy. The Old One stepped carefully around dried twigs, avoiding a snap or crackle that would break the peaceful quiet. Many animals avoided this stretch of forest, and as the Old One broke through the tree line into an open clearing, the reason why came into view. 

The clearing was primarily soft grass, still a deep green as the year’s first frost had yet to sap its colour. Despite this healthy lawn, it was fragmented by outcrops of several different species of mushroom; some were tall and narrow sticking to the more shaded areas, others thick and brightly coloured as if daring to be eaten. At the clearing’s centre was a wide fairy ring several meters in diameter formed mostly by pale mushrooms clinging to the decaying remains of wood lain in what at first glance appeared to be a ritual circle. A mystery for another day, the Old One hummed. Within the large circle, a long necked esk cackled at the misfortune of a smaller tan fellow rising from where they’d tripped over a discarded piece of titanium quartz. The Old One squinted, what on earth was such a rare mineral doing here? They shook their head; kids these days, they thought. Flashy transformation boons they had no idea what to do with. He remembered their name, Barabal. On the larger size for a fungi morph, the Old One maintained a wary acquaintance with the younger esk. Despite their charm, a lingering hint of spiteangerdominancedoasIsay clung to their aura; well masked to most. But then, the Old One had experience with his type, didn’t they? The Old One kept their observations to themselves; if the other esks were fool enough to trust the trespasser then so be it, who were they to interfere? 

The Old One was drawn from their thoughts by a sharp, admonishing whistle. Their green glow flared for a moment as they spotted a winged figure perched on a toadstool, adjacent to a shockingly massive pile of fallen maple leaves. The Old One padded closer, listening in as Butter admonished a now glowering Barabal. “I am Butter!” She said angrily. Butter fluttered over to a teary eyed Button, nudging the little one into a standing position. “Its alright, really.” The tan esk said quietly, blushing with embarrassment. “I just didn’t see it, that’s all. An accident, right Barabal.” His eyes halved in a watery imitation of a grin. Butter gave a disbelieving hum, glancing at the leaves that had been covering the mineral from view. “I am Butter.” She droned sarcastically. Barabal scowled. “Tsk, whatever. He’s fine now ain’t he? Settle down, don’t get your wings in a twist, luv.” Oh wow, someone’s getting defensive. The Old One rolled their eyes and chose to break the argument before it even began. They cleared their non existent throat on their approach, stepping into the ring and feeling the same brush of energy they always did entering another esk’s boundary. 

The trio all turned, and the Old One was amused at the array of receptions they received. Barabal looked intrigued, head tilted to one side. Their mask slipped for the slightest moment, the Old One could see it in their eyes. It was gone in seconds, and the charming attitude returned. Button seemed glad to see them, little tail tub wiggling. Butter was pleasantly welcoming, their wings fluttering softly in the wind. Of the three she was the least familiar to the Old One, but perhaps that was a good thing, they sighed. They shook themselves out a little, enough of this defeatist outlook! 

“Good afternoon.” The Old One’s deep voice rumbled across the clearing, the most obvious tell of a larger presence than their tiny frame suggested. “A fine day, is it not?” Good, good start! Small talk was normal, common. 

Barabal pattered over, touching his foot nub to theirs in a customary greeting. “Well look who it is! Fancy seeing you here!” Barabal laughed. 

“Mmhm.” The Old One replied. As if he didn’t sense them the moment they entered his clearing. 

Unable to contain their excitement any longer Button bounced over, tapping their toe nubs together repeatedly. Butter approached more reservedly, touching softly at the side befitting of acquaintances. The Old One was pleased, at least someone has some manners. 

“Welp!” Barabal crowed, already bored. “The more the merrier, lets get this show on the road!” He hopped onto the crown of an old deer skull, mushrooms peeking between cracks. “Behold! After many long hours of work I have finally-“

“I!” Butter interrupted with a huff. “I am Butter!” Barabal waved a leg. 

“Yeah, yeah alright. We have finally amassed the BIGGEST pile of leaves this side of the river! And now, one of us shall have the honor of being the first to jump into its slightly damp embrace!” Spirits, was I ever this childish, the Old One wondered. Hardly an achievement, was it? Considering they could have been lifted telekinetically. How the pile took so long to build they could only guess. 

“How about it, Grandpa?” Barabal pointed to the Old One. The black esk sat on their haunches and levelled him with a flat stare. The awkward silence stretched a moment too long. 

“Fine. Spoilsport.” Barabal whined. He looked to the other two. While Butter looked vaguely entertained Button was almost splitting at the seams in eagerness. Barabal released a long winded sigh, as if the decision was a difficult one to make. “Fine," he groaned "I guess you did do most of the work.”

Button crooned with joy. He ran to the edge of the fairy ring, then crouched low. With a wiggle and a narrowing of the eyes, they bounded for the pile. It was... underwhelming. Even at full speed the little legs barely broke five kilometers per hour. This won’t do, the Old One thought. They let him run his course, and upon jumping what would have been a small hop changed into a momentous leap; fueled by the nudge of energy the Old One gave. The small bean-like body crashed into the pile with a crackle, a good portion of it falling to the wayside. The now strewn heap shifted, Buttons small muzzle popping up from its depths. A single leaf sat perched ever so lightly upon his head. Even the Old One had to confess, it was adorable. In a clumsy puppy sort of way. 

Butter trilled playfully, already pushing the leaves back into an organized pile. Barabal snickered, and the Old One was slightly surprised at how genuine it sounded. It seems he has a soft spot for the smaller one. 

The Old One didn’t rise to help them put reassemble their pile, instead dropping to lay in the soft grass. As they watched Butter soar high into the sky, preparing to let gravity fuel her fall, they found themselves feeling... content. 

A welcome change.

**Author's Note:**

> AP Breakdown  
> Base Score: 27 AP (Writing: 1382 words)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +20 AP (Other Esk Bonus: 10 AP * 2)  
> +40 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 4)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
> Total AP per submission: 100
> 
> GP Breakdown  
> Base Score: 13.5 GP (Writing: 1382 words)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
> Total GP per submission: 19.5


End file.
